Sitting outside a café in Paris, a latte and a breakfast tart sit delicate and pristine on Lindsay’s plate, patient for her to eat and sip. It’s quiet here for a tourist, and Lindsay feels at home. She’s killing time… Continue Reading
“How can Paris be full?” said Miranda when Bernard translated ‘Complet’. They were at the Gare Du Nord, staring at the notice outside the tourist bureau. Bernard went in and she watched through the window. At least a dozen people… Continue Reading
Jessica Bernard heard the story of John Reynolds on an old podcast while taking the metro home from work. Her job, she admitted to herself, had become tedious. She sent mass emails to raise alarm about the state of the… Continue Reading
Paris is a city of many things — lights, sounds, whispers… and cats. Cats haunt modern Paris like fur-clad ghosts — whiskered faces through window panes, gray mousers plying their trade in alleyways, rooftop cats and cats who sleep and… Continue Reading
Marci and I run through the streets of Montmartre, drunk. Rain falls, turning the streetlights of Paris blurry against the dusk-time sky. Marci is barefoot, shoes in her hands, the streets too slick for high heels. She seems particularly exuberant,… Continue Reading
One last dozen or so, eh, I think to myself as I return to my apartment and see red roses sitting outside my door. It’s Valentine’s Day and my ex-girlfriend must be getting ideas again. Ha! What kind of girl… Continue Reading